Saturday, June 29, 2019

ME PATIENT?

This week had it's fun moments. I tried to convince the nurse who took my blood pressure at the hospital, and put the little rubber clampy thing on my finger that measures oxygen saturation levels (the pulse oximeter) that, as the device couldn't find anything, this patient had to be a zombie.
And seeing as she had never even heard of Rainaud's phenomenon, an exciting digital affliction, I very nearly succeeded.

Logic; it's a nurse's worst nightmare.
If coming from a patient.


The doctor spoiled it all by putting the clampy thing on a different finger.
His own.

Which merely proved that the device was not malfunctioning.

It didn't establish conclusively that I am NOT a zombie, though.
I am persuasive, and can stare straight ahead woodenly.
Just call me 僵屍叔叔。

僵屍

One of the first Hong Kong movies I saw in Chinatown was Mr. Vampire (僵屍先生 'geung si sin saang'), which is based on the Chinese belief in hopping zombies (so not vampires, those are 吸血鬼 'kap huet kwai'; "suck blood daemons") that prey on a live human's vital energies.
Too stiff with rigour mortis to move, except by jumping.
Please don't ask me to explain how they do so.
I might be dead, but I'm not Bram Stoker.

That movie proved that the Cantonese can have fun with corpses.
Also that Ricky Hui (許冠英 'heui gun ying') was a genius.

If you love egg tarts, blame Ricky.


Nah, won't bother explaining that.
You can find answers on the net.


I'll just mention that I've seen probably every Mr. Vampire rip-off made since then, as well as every movie that Ricky Hui was ever in.
Consider it part of my education.

I doubt that the nurse has seen any of them.
A pity.


Many of the best movies have hugely entertaining hospital scenes, so I'm familiar with the environment. Shan't cross-dress like Ricky, though.




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